


Hate What We've Lost, Love What We Find

by batlaclava



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Banter, Bounty hunter Dream, George-centric, Hunter Dream, M/M, MC - Freeform, Minecraft, Or flirting, YT - Freeform, Youtuber - Freeform, don't worry no one dies, dream is a whore tbh, dream stop flirting challenge, dreamnotfound, george is a little bitch the entire time, george stop being mean challenge, geroge's pov, idk. gay people., lots of gore because dream has crazy high pain tolerance, many near death experiences, mcyt - Freeform, minecraft youtuber, no one important at least, physical pain tolerance at least, travelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batlaclava/pseuds/batlaclava
Summary: Dream is a hunter. George is the one being hunted. Could I make it anymore obvious <3
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Hate What We've Lost, Love What We Find

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic that i'm like. genuinly trying to get through. ooooo blockmen make me go brrrrr haha hope yall enjoy this

A waxing crescent sat high in the clear sky of the world. Beneath her, a river sat silently across the land. Salmon sat silently in the water, resting with their eyes open. Every so often they would twitch at the slightest ripple within the warm water that enveloped them. Starlight reflected off of their faded scales, dancing along the water and down to the sand below. Bugs sang with the dancing stars, making the night a peaceful symphony of earth. Peaceful, that is until noises approached in the distance. A nearby rabbit perked up, its ears turning towards the trees. It stared a moment longer, twitching its nose before whipping away into a burrow. A branch was pushed aside within the forest, making a gateway. Two men stepped out, the third following as he let the branch return to its place. They turned their heads around, scanning the area. The one in the lead stepped forward into a small clearing, setting a few items down in a clatter. He leaned back up to the other two, peeking at them from behind his hood. 

“This should be ok for the night!” He said cheerfully, smiling through white fangs and glowing eyes. The man had a very soft aura to him despite features that some would consider demonic. His skin was a dark grey with a darker shade of hair that swept over his forehead. Protruding from his forehead were two small black horns that curved up slightly. He wore a light grey patterned scarf around his neck that was tucked into his hoodie. His hoodie was black with bright red outlines on it, bringing a pop of color to his already dark color scheme. A strap of leather was hoisted around his chest, carrying a shiny sword of iron on his back. A thin black and pointed tail poked out of his pants, swatting the air in happy gestures. He was dressed in black pants with two red stripes down the sides of them that cut off as they met a pair of boots. Boots that were shiny under the moonlight and had dull tips. 

One of the other men stumbled forward, throwing down his things without care and slumping down on the grass. He huffed loudly and threw his arms out, closing his eyes. “Finally.” He sighed, wiping his face. This man was dressed very differently. His face was a dusted almond shade with a bit of dark stubble on his chin. His black hair was short and split down the middle. It flopped over a white headband tied over his forehead that was unnecessarily long, the tails of it reaching his middle back. On top of a long and thick black sleeved shirt, he wore a white tee with a flame symbol sat in the center. His shirt was tucked into a baggy pair of black pants with two white stripes going down the side of them. He wore plain looking shoes that were patterned black and white, although they looked slightly dusty from time. His hands were somewhat gloved, his fingers poking out of them. He wore a few accessories on his fingers and wrists, all black in color. 

The hooded man huffed a smile, turning to his other companion. “Is this alright with you?” He asked him, tilting his head like a puppy at the other man. The final man stirred, grabbing at the leather strap across his chest. “It’s alright,” he said in an accent unlike the other two. “I just wish it wasn’t so close to the ravine.” He said, looking at the giant crack in the earth that sat a dozen or so feet away from them. 

He was much more different than the other two. He was shorter and more nervous in nature. His skin was pale and smooth with a few bandages on his arms and around his hands. His hair was dark brown, short, and swooping over his head. He wore a plain blue t-shirt that had a red and white rectangle in the middle of it. His shirt was tucked into a dark blue pair of jeans, tied tight with a brown belt. He wore plain black shoes that were tied tight on his feet. He also had a leather strap around his chest that held an iron sword across his back. He looked somewhat plain, except for one feature. A pair of white goggles with black lenses that were strapped around his head with a leather strap and silver buckle. 

The hooded man looked at the other kindly, standing up to reach out his hands and take the shorter man’s items off of him to relieve some weight. “I understand,” he said as he turned and set the items down gently next to his. “But once we make a fire, nothing will bother us. I know it’s not an ideal spot, but it’s very late and we’re all tired.” He turned to look at the man who was laying on the ground with his eyes closed. He could have passed as sleeping but the other man knew better. He leaned forward and poked him, making the man peak an eye open. 

“Do you have flint and steel?” He asked him with a curious blink. The man leaned up, although begrudgingly, and reached behind him to pull a bag forward. He unzipped it and moved his hand around inside before pulling out a rock and a C shaped piece of iron. He tossed it to the hooded man, who caught it and smiled brightly at him. “Thank you, Sapnap!” He smiled. The man, Sapnap, waved his hand at him. “I’ve got some sticks to start a fire, but we’re gonna need more.” He leaned his head up to look at the hooded man. “Got any planks, Bad?”

The hooded man, Bad, tapped his chin in thought. He thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I used the rest of mine to craft my sword.” He turned to the man in blue, blinking at him. “What about you, George? Got any planks?” 

The brunette lowered his head, running through his list of items that he had. He also shook his head and stepped forward to lean down and grab his bag. “No. I’ll go get some.” 

As he reached for his bag, Bad grabbed his wrist. George looked down at him, raising a brow. Bad looked up at him with wide eyes, still holding onto him. “No! It’s dangerous out there! I’m sure we can find something else to burn.” He pleaded, not wanting his friend to go off into the woods alone. George blinked under his goggles before laughing nervously. “Bad, it’s ok. I have a sword and I know how to run. I just need to get some branches, it won’t take me long. I’ll be fine,” he raised his hand and placed it on top of Bad’s that was still holding his wrist. “Alright?” 

Bad blinked sadly for a few more moments before slowly releasing George, freeing him. “Ok.” He said quietly. “Just be back quick and please be safe.” 

George leaned up and threw his bag over his shoulder, smiling warmly at him. “I know. I’ll be back before you can say ‘Sapnap’s an idiot!’” He said, turning on his heel to the forest behind them. Sapnap jumped up and raised a fist at him. “Yeah? Hope you don’t look an Enderman right in the eye, bitch!” He called after him with a laugh. George smiled as he heard a gasp from Bad followed by a scold of “Language!” 

The forest was dark. Tall oak and pines reached above him, their leaves shielding the moonlight from the forest floor that would give him a sense of direction. He could light a torch, but the flame would only attract monsters. He weighed his options and decided to push on with his sword ahead of him and his shield on the side of him. His bag was filling with the various twigs and branches that he had been collecting throughout the woods. Thankfully, he hadn’t run into any monsters. He paused in his tracks. Thankfully. He should say strangely. Surely he should have at least run into a spider slinking down from the trees or an undead blindly stumbling through the forest. But no, there was nothing. Not a groan or the rattle of bones in the distance. It was strange and maybe even scarier than having the monsters there like usual. He sighed and decided not to test his luck, pushing forward into the forest to collect more twigs. 

His feet halted when he heard a rustle behind him. He stood still, hand gripping on his sword. He listened carefully through the distant churn of the river and the cicadas above him in the trees. He inhaled slowly, counting to three before turning quickly and pointing his sword out. He breathed heavily in fear for a moment before he blinked down at what had been causing the sound. In front of him stood a fox. It was rather small and had its face stained with a dark splash of color. George considered it being blood before he noticed seeds on its face. Sweet berries. He sighed in relief and lowered his sword at the creature. He smiled at it for a second as it blinked up at him. Another strange thing, foxes were usually skittish. This one didn’t seem to care that a human was this close to him. George took note of another strange thing that was happening. Or maybe a completely normal thing for this forest. The fox blinked up at him before its eyes darted in another direction. Its ears flattened and it scurried off into the bushes, gone in a flash. George watched it go, wondering if its mother was nearby. He hoped that the little creature would be ok during the night. It was dangerous for him, and even more for small animals much like the fox. George blinked again and hummed in thought. He wondered if he had been the one to spook it off. 

His question was ultimately answered as he heard another snap behind him. He turned quickly to welcome his fox friend back, but his eyes widened as he heard the pounding of earth approaching him. George’s heart spiked. Something was running at him. He turned on his heel so fast that he began to fall, but he caught himself on a tree and pushed off of it, racing back towards the ravine. He sprinted as fast as he could as he heard the pounding footsteps behind him, joined by what sounded like laughter? George didn’t care enough to dwell on it and continued to haul ass through the forest, careful to not trip over roots that protruded from the earth. His chest began to hurt as his breaths became rushed and even more fearful as he ran for his life. His heart spiked up when he heard a distant and familiar laugh. Sapnap. 

“Sapnap!” He screamed, spotting the opening in the trees. He pushed off of his heels again and bolted closer and closer to the tree line. “Bad! Help!” He cried. The thing behind him stomped on his heels, making his eyes water in fear. George clenched his teeth before he raised his arm that held his shield and threw it down behind him. He kept running and was relieved to hear something thud against it, maybe a fall. George burst through the oak, panting heavily as he was met with his friends. The two of them were standing, swords in hand. Their eyes widened as they watched George appear in front of them. Sapnap was the first to move, running to George. He grabbed him tightly and turned him back to Bad, who was already appearing at their side. 

Bad grabbed George’s shaking shoulders, steadying him. George gasped for breath, holding onto Bad’s arms that held him. Sapnap stood next to Bad, eyes contorted in worry as he looked down at his friend. Bad’s expression wasn’t much different. His mouth gaped as he turned to Sapnap and looked at him fearfully. “Water! Do you have water?” He asked shakily. Sapnap reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle filled with a clear liquid. He popped the cap open and lifted it to George’s lips, who chugged it hastily. After he had downed almost all of it, he let it fall to the ground and breathed heavily. His friends still looked down at him with scared expressions, clearly wondering what had happened to their friend.  
“George, are you ok?” Sapnap asked, patting his shoulder. George panted before raising his head, just in time too. He raised his gaze to see someone behind his friends wielding an axe. George’s eyes widened and he reached behind him to pull out his own sword. He pushed Bad to the side, knocking him over onto the grass. Iron clanged loudly with each other as sword met axe. George looked up at his chaser and felt his heart skip a beat. Instead of meeting the face of a monster, he met the white of a mask with a stupidly drawn smile on it. Despite it being so simple and childish, the face still sent shivers down George’s spine. A matching grin sat beneath the smile of the mask, sharp fangs shining back at George. He held his attacker’s “gaze” as he pushed his sword against the axe.

Thankfully, Sapnap was already swinging his own sword at the stranger. The figure dodged the swoop of metal and raised a shield. George took note of a specific dent at the top. My shield. George blinked through surprise. Stupid of me to drop that. 

The attacker now had his sword raised at Sapnap and his shield (or rather George’s shield) raised at George. The brunette flicked his gaze to his friend that he had knocked down. Thankfully, Bad was now leaning up off of the ground and gripping his sword in his hand. He dusted off his shirt and raised his sword at the stranger’s back. Bad cleared his throat and narrowed his glowing eyes the attacker. “There’s three of us and one of you. Lower your weapon and we won’t have to...” Bad pondered his words for a moment, not being good at tough talk. “We won’t have to make you feel bad about this!” He said. George saw the smile on the stranger’s face widen at Bad’s ‘threat.’

Before any of them could move, the attacker swung quickly and threw something in Bad’s direction. George blinked, and the stranger was in a new location. Standing behind Bad now, the stranger swung his sword and struck Bad against his back. Through some miracle, the sword only cut through Bad’s clothing and tore through his hoodie. George and Sapnap were already moving to assist their friend. Bad turned towards the attacker and stumbled back, face contorted in worry more than anger. The attacker lunged forward to strike at Bad again, only to be blocked by Sapnap’s sword. Sapnap threw his arms up, pushing the stranger’s sword back and making him stumble. George followed through with Sapnap’s block, swinging his sword at the stranger. 

The stranger turned quickly and flipped back, dodging the swing of George’s sword. He spun and blocked his back with the shield. When he showed his body again, he was holding a crossbow. Before anyone could react, the trigger was pulled and an arrow was cascading through the air. The arrow hit Sapnap in the arm, making him cry out. Bad gasped and rushed forward, grabbing his friend. “Sapnap!” He cried, raising his sword out at the attacker but still holding his friend with his other arm. His face still wasn’t angry, just scared. George clenched his teeth at the stranger and rushed forward, striking the stolen shield with his sword. Wood splintered off of it and the attacker turned back on his heel, pulling out his axe again. He swung up at George, just missing his chest as he jumped back away from the sword. 

“George!” Sapnap called out to his friend. The dark-haired man tried to move forward but was held back by Bad. The grey colored man gently patted his friend’s shoulder and pushed him down gently to sit before grabbing his sword and moving forward. Bad appeared from behind George and stood with his sword raised. “Please don’t make us have to do something that could hurt one of us even more!” He called out to the masked stranger, who seemingly didn’t even hear Bad’s plea. The stranger rushed forward again to strike at George, who blocked the hit before Bad ran up behind him and purposefully swung at the shield in the stranger’s hand.

Bad pulled his sword away and turned, grabbing George’s arm to pull him back slightly. George and Bad stood in a defensive position against the stranger who stood with his body somewhat exposed. They all stood in a narrow triangle position, staring each other down. The few moments of being still let George get a good look at the attacker. He peered at the stranger through his goggles, studying him.

He was tall, that was for sure. He was draped in a short green hoodie that was raised over his head, hiding his hair. That is if he had hair. He must have been wearing some sort of undershirt because his neck was covered with a tight black fabric that also seemed to reach out from under the hoodie onto his wrists. The tight black fabric also covered the skin under his cropped hoodie, hugging his slim body tightly. He also had fingerless gloves like Sapnap, but his nails were painted black and shining in the moonlight. His pants were dark and baggy, adorned with chains and pockets along the sides of the pants. He had on two belts that were stacked with knife holsters and various other holding compartments that stored who knows what. His pants were tucked into tall black boots that had long laces and, yet again, another knife holster on each boot. An “X” sat across his chest with a double set of straps that were used to hold the axe and another to hold, or at least George assumed, the crossbow. George stared him up and down. He was, to say the least, terrifying. However, George still didn’t know why the stranger was bothering to attack them. He seemed to have more items than all three of the men had and last time George checked, none of the three of them had a bounty on them. George stumbled internally. There’s no way there’s a bounty on us. 

They all stood still for a moment longer before the attacker crouched down, reaching into his pocket. Bad and George tensed up, pointing their swords at him. The stranger raised his face the two of them. He raised his hand and pointed a finger in a “wait” signal at the men. He pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper and unfolded it, looking at it. The stranger lowered the paper and looked up at George. Then back at the paper. Then at Bad. Then at the paper. Then at Sapnap. 

He looked back down at the paper before pocketing it again and standing straight up again. George and Bad stood their ground, ready to attack. The attacker looked at them, mask expression bored before he reached his arms up quickly. They stretched up into the air, bones popping. The noise made George cringe. He shook his head in disbelief at the actions of the stranger. “I’m sorry, but can we help you with something?” George hissed at him. Bad followed his lead. “Umm, yeah. Are you like, lost? Is there somewhere we can help you get?” He asked nervously. At this, the stranger stopped stretching and looked at the two of them. His mask was shadowed in an eerie way, making him only seem more menacing before he spoke. The man’s lips drew into a smirk, his teeth showing as his smile widened. 

“Behind you.” He said lowly. 

George froze. “Wh-“ 

Before George could finish, the stranger disappeared. George blinked and looked around. Bad did the same, glancing around frantically. Suddenly, Bad gasped and George heard something thump to the ground. George spun to see the attacker on top of his friend, raising his arms to swing at Bad. George moved quickly and rammed his body into the attacker’s, knocking them both down onto the ground. George, for some dumb reason, had dropped his sword when he collided his body with the strangers. The two of them rolled on the ground and across the grass, grabbing at each other with harmful intent. Before George could get his hands around the stranger’s throat, the two of them were thrown off of the side of the ravine. The pebbles and dirt cascaded on them and if it weren’t for George’s goggles, the dust would have blinded him. 

Thank God for his quick thinking, because George reached out and grabbed a protruding root from the side of the cliff and held onto it with his life. He looked down to see the stranger gone. George breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, the prick had fallen into the ravine without water to break his fall. George’s heart warmed as he heard approaching footsteps and saw his friends appear over the cliff. 

“George!” They both cried before Bad stumbled down carefully and reached his hand out to George. “Can you reach?” He asked through a shaky voice. George smiled. “For once, I think he can.” Sapnap teased. George was glad to see that even an arrow to his arm couldn’t even waver his spirit. George pulled himself up and reached up, finally meeting the faces of his friends. They smiled at him. They were all glad that they were all safe. George reached out his hand to Bad, who extended his in response. 

Their fingers brushed for just a moment before George felt hands around his chest. 

The last thing George saw was Bad’s smile drop and his eyes widen. He saw Sapnap’s brows narrowing and his body shooting forward to grab his friend as his body slipped off of the edge of the ravine. The last thing George heard was his friends call his name as the sky became narrow with the edges of the ravine closing in as he fell. The last thing George felt was his stomach drop as he did. He felt something tight around his chest and he felt his throat tear with a scream. The very last thing he felt was his body hit the water and rocks at the bottom of the ravine before his vision went black and his body went cold. 

George slowly came to in a grassy field. The sun was warm on his pale skin, sinking into him and making him want to stay there forever. He stayed there for a moment longer before moving his elbows back and pushing himself up. His back ached as he sat up, looking forward to see a small patch of burnt earth on the ground. George blinked before he reached a hand up and moved his hair back out of his face. His head ached as well. He reached his hand back further and felt the soft cloth of a bandage. That was alarming to him. He moved his legs up to stand, his vision blurring as he did so. He decided to stay sitting as he didn’t want to pass out just yet. Although, going back to sleep didn’t sound half as bad. He looked around him warily. What the bloody hell happened?

“Oh. Good morning, sunshine.” a voice behind him rang. George fell forward and reached for a nearby stick. He twisted back towards the voice and raised the stick at the stranger who had startled him. George’s heart raced faster as he met the face of the stranger. Well, if you could call it a face. It was someone draped in green cloth with a white mask strewn across his face, a crude smiley face looking back at him. George’s brain clicked as he stared at the stranger a moment longer. His brows narrowed and his teeth clenched. His grip on the stick tightened and he pushed himself up off of the ground, ignoring the spin of his head. 

“You!” George hissed out. The stranger remained still, pointing at himself. “Me?” George flared back, raising his arm and launching the stick at the stranger in fury. The masked stranger simply took a step to the side, dodging the stick. “Rude.” He said quietly. Something about his careless behavior just annoyed George to no end. He really wanted to punch this asshole in the throat. 

George moved back again, puffing up like an angry cat. “Rude? You threw me off a cliff!” He hissed, stomping his foot on the ground to somehow make a point. This only made the stranger across from him lean on his hip and cross his arms. If George could see his face, he was sure he would be raising his brow. His lips were drawn in a thin line, clearly unimpressed. 

“I didn’t throw you off a cliff, I pulled you off a cliff. Big difference.” He said, keeping his arms crossed as he looked down at George. George nearly exploded. Is this guy serious? His head was starting to spin again but he ignored it, his anger being prioritized in this situation. George ran a hand up to his head, pushing his hair back. “You-“ he said, lowering his hand and pointing at the masked man again. “Are an asshole!” He cried out. George began to step forward, no longer fearing the man as far as he could throw him. “You had no business attacking me and my friends! We did nothing to you! If you think you could just hurt them for some stupid bounty then you-!” 

He suddenly stumbled, falling forward over his feet. The yelling was already wearing him out, the pounding in his head making him dizzier. However, he didn’t hit the ground. He felt big hands on the sides of his arms, holding him up. “Woah.” The stranger said, holding him up. “I wouldn’t yell if I were you. You hit your head pretty hard, kid.” The man said, his voice strangely soothing. George pushed back, still fearing for his safety around the man. “I’m not...a kid. I’m fuckin-“ George huffed out, trying to breathe to keep himself up. “-twenty-four years old. I’m an adult.” He snapped, a bit quieter this time. 

The stranger smirked, lips curling up in amusement. “Really? You scream like a child.” He laughed, raising his hand up to cover his smirk. George pursed his lips, looking away shyly. “Yeah, well, I was getting chased through a dark forest and then I fell down a cliff.” George crossed his arms, leaning away from the man across from him. “Bite me.” 

The man stepped forward, sizing him up. George looked at him through his shaded goggles, his stomach suddenly dropping when he realized how tall the man was compared to him. George stood his ground, his brows narrowed in frustration at the man in front of him. George began to tap his foot, presenting his pettiness to every part of his body. The man tilted his head and held his chin, studying the shorter man. “You’re an annoying little shit, aren’t you?” He said, amusement ringing in his tone. George stepped forward, closing the gap between them somewhat. “Yeah? Well, you’re not too far from being the worst either.” He snapped back, venom in his voice. 

The man stepped back, his arm raising up to scratch behind his head. The man’s dark blonde curls bounced as he moved, following his somewhat bubbly personality. George pondered that word. Bubbly was a cute and sweet word, one that suited his friend with horns. The word “annoying” suited this guy more. The man smiled again, his lips curled in a somewhat nervous manner this time. George blinked at him, studying the prominent fangs in his mouth. A black stud sat on the man’s tongue, piercing through his skin. George wondered if that hurt. “Sorry!” The man laughed sweetly, a slight stumble in his voice. “I guess I could have just asked you.” He lowered his arm, placing it in one of the pockets of his baggy pants. 

George raised a brow. “Asked me what?” The man raised his other hand, opening it in a gesture. “Ya know. I could have just said, ‘Hey! Would you please come with me? I’ve been paid money to bring you in dead or alive!’ Because that is so much easier, how silly of me!” He said, laughing again. George stiffened. So there was a bounty. For what, though? 

The man continued, ignoring the change in George’s posture. “Don’t fret, my little white boy! I’ve had a change of heart.” He moved to the side and flopped down onto the ground, sitting crisscrossed on the waving grass. He gestured to the earth across from him, silently asking George to sit. George glared down at him for a moment but reluctantly sat down. He sat crisscrossed as well, leaning forward and holding his chin in a propped up hand. George raised a brow at the man. The stranger clapped his hands together, teeth flashing again with a smile at George’s cooperation. “I figured, ya know, why waste my time on bringing you three in for some petty cash when I could get so much more.”

George perked up. “So, you’re letting me go?” He asked, hopelessly hopeful. However, his hope was soon stomped on when the man lowered his hand, letting his wrist hang. “What? No, of course not. I’m gonna ransom you to your friends in exchange for all you idiots got.” He said through a laugh. George deadpanned, staring forward with the most annoyed expression a man could have. “Of course.” He said, sighing. The stranger waved his hand, leaning to the side. “You’re honestly kinda lucky that I made this decision. I would have just left you in that ravine honestly. Speaking of, you owe me for that. It was a pain carrying your ass up that cliff!” The man whined, making gestures with his hands. 

George scoffed. “Unbelievable! You’re the one who dragged me down there in the first place! Not my fault you’re a bad hunter who bit off more than he could chew.” The man across from him turned his lips, pouting. “Hey. I’m a great hunter. I just didn’t expect your little ass to send me cascading over a cliff.” He turned his head, smiling again. “You surprised me, really. Didn’t think you could even knock down that fox. Good on you though, harnessing your adrenaline like that!” He cheered, fangs flashing again. 

George really couldn’t figure this guy out, but was never good with people anyways. It was a miracle that he could tolerate both Bad and Sapnap. Two was the limit for him as of now. This guy, well, this guy was just the pinnacle of someone you would want to see trip and fall in front of a crowd. The brunette scooted back, going to stand again. “Your fake compliments won’t get me to trust you, you annoying pri-“ George’s head did that thing again, and he stumbled to the side. He was somewhat glad that the man was quick to stand and catch him. Falling in front of him would have made the situation so much worse and embarrassing. 

“Seriously, dude. You gotta lay down.” He said, all the teasing in his tone now gone. “I should give you new bandages and check the wound, actually.” The man held George up and looked around, scanning the area. He looked back down at the man in blue after a moment, smiling nervously at him. “Think you can make it to the trees over there?” He asked, raising his arm to point at the forest a few dozen feet across from them. George raised his head, his vision still blurry from standing up too quickly. He pushed off of the man’s grip on him, standing on his own. Although, it was harder than he would ever admit. “Yes, I can walk. I’m not weak.” George hissed at him. The man stood back slowly, still having his hands raised just in case he had to catch George again. “Never said you were, Georgie!” He smiled. 

George froze. “What-“ he turned his head rather quickly, glaring at the man. “-did you just call me?” The man looked down and exploded in laughter, his lungs squeezing out a wheeze. “Sorry!” He boomed, making George’s head hurt. “You don’t like that nickname?” He asked, clearly teasing. George began to walk forward to the woods, the man tightening his belt before following. “It’s annoying.” George said, clearly despising it. The man giggled in response, turning his face towards the trees. One of his hands moved up to grab the leather strap that wrapped under his arm, gripping it just to occupy his hand. His other hand still gestured as he spoke, something George wished he would stop doing. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He said lowly in amusement. 

They reached the woods within a few minutes, George sighing in relief when he reached an oak tree, leaning on it to hold himself up. The man turned towards him, raising his hands again. “You ok?” He asked, lips turned in a slight frown. George huffed, the migraine becoming unbearable. Despite the pain, he mumbled out an “I’m fine,” and moved forward a few more feet to get under some proper shade. He leaned against a birch tree, sliding down against it and sitting in a lazy position with a single knee raised. He set one of his arms on his knee and set the other in between his legs. The man stepped in front of him, hovering over him. George didn’t bother to look up as he saw his boots approach. “What?” He groaned, just wanting to sleep. 

The man stood still before crouching down, slinging his bag over his shoulder and placing it in between them. George watched him turn and sit in a similar position to George as he searched through the bag. The man in front of him pursed his lips, arm moving rapidly through the pouches inside. “God damnit, where is it?” He cursed to himself. George only watched him, not bothering to say anything. He cringed when the man boomed a “Got it!” and pulled something out of his bag. The man lowered his hands and carefully unwrapped the white cloth, revealing some little bottles and bandages. The man threw the bag to the side carelessly and scooted forward towards George. The brunette leaned back as far as he could with his back against the tree. “D-Don’t touch me!” He said, raising his arm to cover himself. The man pulled back too, clearly nervous with the other one’s behavior.

“Ok, ok,” he said, not quite sitting back all the way. “I’m just trying to help. I’m sure your head hurts, right?” He asked cautiously. George glared at him, still pressed against the tree. “Yeah, and your loud mouth isn’t helping with that either.” He snapped. The man only smiled, actually laughing a bit. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just uh-“ he looked down at the supplies in his hands, pondering. His fingers wrapped around a small vial that was filled with a swirling red and pink liquid, dancing around within the glass. 

“Will you at least drink this?” The man asked, holding it out to George as he pinched it in between his fingers. George glared at it. “You can’t poison me that easily.” He croaked out. Talking was now becoming painful. The man across from him laughed lightly, flipping the vial in his fingers. “Oh, come on. If I wanted you dead, I really would have just left you in that ravine.” He pulled his hand back when George didn’t answer, still glaring at him. “You know what,” he sighed, popping the vial open. “Watch this, stubborn ass.” He reached into his belt and pulled out a blade, unsheathing it from its holster. He set the vial down for a moment before pulling down his sleeve, folding his arm in front of him. The man raised the knife, positioning it above his arm. George’s eyes widened. “Wait-“ he said, leaning forward. The knife plummeted down, stabbing all the way through the man’s arm. George gasped and slapped his hands over his mouth, staring ahead at the gorey action. 

“Mother fucker!” The man yelled, pulling the knife back out and tossing it to the side. George felt his stomach spike in fear when the man actually laughed at his arm spitting out blood. He grabbed the vial and drank it all before retreating another one and pouring it over the wound. Within a few seconds, the hole in his arm stitched itself shut, the blood stopping. George watched silently, still not forgetting how fast the knife moved. The man across from him reached into the bag and pulled out a vial of water, pouring it over his arm before grabbing a cloth and wiping it clean. He raised his arm up to George, showing him that only a small mark on his skin remained. George blinked again at his arm. Freckled and scarred skin, might he add. George leaned forward with curiosity, still cautious from whatever the hell he just witnessed. “How the bloody hell did you-“

“Potion of Healing. God, it never gets old.” The man laughed. George shook his head before glaring up at the masked man. “Yeah, I got that. I meant how the hell did you just stab yourself without hesitation? Are you crazy?” George hissed out, trying to ignore the spin of his head. He almost laughed in disbelief when the man literally shrugged. “Dunno,” he said, pulling his sleeve back down. “You get used to getting the shit kicked outta you when you live a dangerous life like me, baby!” He smiled, pointing his thumb at himself. He turned his arm down and wrapped his hand around a vial identical to the one he drank, handing it to George. “Drink. Unless you need me to stab my heart next.” 

George took the vial, shaking his head. “No thanks.” He mumbled. He popped the cap off of the vial and looked down at it for a moment before bringing it to his lips and drinking it. It tasted like a dusty sort of fruit, making George’s throat sting. He tossed the vial down and stuck out his tongue in disgust, making a noise of disgust. The man laughed, watching his reaction. “You get used to it.” He said, leaning forward again. George sighed in relief as the pounding in his head quickly ceased after a few moments. The man in front of him held a bandage roll in his hand, waiting for George to turn. George blinked at him, still not feeling as safe as possible around him. 

The man played with the cloth in his hand, watching George for a moment. “You gotta take your goggles off, or else I can’t change it.” He said. George spiked up. “What? No way! I’m not ta-“ he paused, realizing what the man said. “Wait a second.” He said, raising his hand to the buckle on his goggles. He felt around for a moment, realizing that the goggles were loser than usual. The buckle was just one space back from its usual placing. George’s stomach dropped. “Did you take off my goggles, you freak?” He yelled. At least he could do that again. 

The man across from him flopped his wrist back. “Umm, duh? I kinda’ had to. Shit was in the way.” He said carelessly and bored. George leaned back, suddenly scared again. “Did you-“ he swallowed the lump of embarrassment and fear in his throat. “Did you look at my- were my eyes open when you-“ The man cut him off, clearly sensing a fear here. “No. Relax, dude. I didn’t like, pry your eyes open and see if you had the most beautiful eyes in the world. You were knocked out. Your eyes were very much closed.” He reassured George, although in a weird way. George sighed in relief, his body falling a bit. 

The man laughed. “Why? You ugly or something?” He teased. George glared up at him, raising a brow. “Are you?” He snapped back. The man’s smile dropped for a second before reappearing, laughter booming out. “Woah! He’s got a sense of humor!” The man raised a finger to his mask, wiping a fake tear off of it under the eye. “Thank God. I didn’t wanna travel with a loser.” He paused and gestured vaguely. “Well, not a complete loser, I guess.” 

George faltered at that. He thought of his friends. Did they think he was dead? George surely thought he would have died from that fall, water or not. George felt his heart drop because he just knew Bad cried. He knew Sapnap would have blamed himself for not being quick enough to catch him. George faltered again. At least, he hoped so. He would blame himself if anything bad ever happened to his friends. Or maybe, the two of them were glad that George had fallen. He was a bit of a burden, to say the least. There had been many times when he had held the two back from things. Simple things. Things that should have been easy for him to do, but the weight on his feet wouldn’t let him move forward to do any of the simple things. He mentally shook himself. Too much thinking. George tightened his grip on the grass between his fingers, tearing it up a bit. You think too much. He told himself. 

He felt his cheeks flush when he looked up to see the man staring at him, confused for not getting a snappy response. “What? Couldn’t think of a clever response?” He smirked when George lifted his head. George sat up, reaching back to fiddle with the buckle of his goggles. “No. I was just planning all the ways I could possibly kill you.” George said, hesitantly undoing the leather strap. The man laughed, raising a hand up to cover his mouth. George turned his back to the man, giving him easier access to the wound on his head. Taking a breath, George pulled the goggles forward and over his head. The buckle snagged at the dirty bandages on his head, tearing them slightly. George held the goggles before pressing the lenses up to his eyes with his hands, still keeping his eyes covered.

George felt the bandages fall as the man unwrapped them carefully, setting them to the ground beside him. He heard the man hiss a bit, clearly a bad sign. George tensed but kept quiet. He heard a few items being clicked against each other as the man moved his hands through the bag again. After a moment, George heard the pop of a vial and then a swish. A cold rag was placed against the back of his head, pressing against the wound. George hissed at the sting of it, making a pained noise. “Ow! That stings like hell!” He cried, gripping at his goggles. The man hummed behind him, not really caring. “Good. That means it’s working.” He mumbled before wiping at George’s head a bit. 

The rag was soon tossed to the side before George heard another vial pop open. He heard glass clink and then a few cold drops of something on the back of his head. He smelled something familiar to the potion he drank earlier and assumed it was the same thing. The clink of glass sounded again and then the unwrapping of some bandages. The man’s hands pressed gently against his head as he pressed a thick pad there, a strange smelling ointment on it. He reached behind him and grabbed some patches of what could be called tape, making an octothorp mark with it to keep the gauze there. The man reached in front of George, holding out his hand. “Goggles.” He said, waiting for them to be placed into his awaiting palm. George hesitantly closed his eyes and removed the goggles from his face, placing them in the man’s hand. The man gently placed them over his head, positioning them over his eyes. He adjusted the strap down, slipping it through the buckle and sliding the goggles a little to the right and over the patch of bandages on George’s head. He heard the click of the buckle and then felt the breath on the back of his neck cease. “Done!” The man said, turning and standing up. 

George reached back and touched his lower neck where it was still hot from the man breathing on him. Then he moved his hand up to touch the buckle. It was back in the usual position that he always had it in, not too tight or too loose. George felt his lips turn in a smile for a second before turning and standing up himself, dusting off his pants. He turned to the man before looking away, gaze locking on a distant tree. “Thanks.” He said in a low tone that one might call shy. The man paused as he set the final items back into his bag, tightening it before straightening up and tossing it over his shoulders. He smiled at George, waving a hand. “No problem! Wouldn’t want my ransom showing up in bad condition, would I?” George sighed. Right. That. He thought, remembering why he was still alive in the first place. 

The man tightened the straps on his bag, securing it over his shoulders before turning in a direction that led east into the woods. George began to follow him, not really having anywhere else to go. He was weaponless, armorless, and all together screwed if he ran from this guy. The man was clearly more stacked in items than him, quicker than him, and most definitely stronger than him. So, albeit hesitant, George followed him. Better to gain his trust in time to find a way to get far enough to run away from him and find his friends. That thought made George pause. “Hey,” he said, setting his pace next to the man’s, looking up at him. “How the bloody hell do you know where we’re going?” He asked, getting annoyed with the man’s wide paces. 

The man tapped reached into his pocket and pulled out a compass that was pointing forward. George blinked at it, a little confused. “I’ve been tracking you and your amigos for a while.” The man said, pocketing the compass again. “Luckily, it’s tracking your buddy in black and not you, or else we both would have been very fucked.” He said, not having an amusing tone in his voice this time. George was somewhat thankful for that as well. Once again, Bad had been the light in his life. George smiled at the thought of seeing his friend again if he ever would. He hoped he would. 

George turned again, looking up at the man for a second before turning his gaze forward to the trees. “You got a name, or are you just some annoying masked bastard?” George asked, hiding his curiosity with venom. The man, thankfully, laughed at George’s tone. “Take me to dinner first, dude.” the man smirked. George spiked up. “What? If I’m gonna be stuck with your annoying ass, at least give me something to refer to you as.“ George spat. The man laughed again. He tilted his head, thinking for a moment before turning his head down to George, smiling at him. 

“Dream.” 

George blinked for a moment, still walking forward. “Wow.” He said, blinking again. “What a stupid name.” He said. The man- Dream- laughed again. “Thanks! I chose it myself! Also, fuck you. Who names their kid ‘George’?” He snickered at his own joke. George lowered his brow in confusion. “Normal people? What the hell? It’s a completely normal name!” He said defensively but with not as much venom in his tone. 

“Ugh,” Dream groaned through a snicker. “It sounds like a name you would give to like, I don’t know, a monkey or something.” He giggled, waving his hand as he spoke. George ignored him, mentally waving his hand back at him. “Sorry for having a completely normal name and not a noun as my name.” He said, pursing his lip. Dream stepped over a branch in front of him, kicking at it behind him. 

“Ok, white boy.” He giggled, placing a hand in his pocket before pulling it out to check the compass. He placed it back in his pocket and kept his hand there. George continued to walk beside Dream, glancing down at the silent chains that swayed against his legs. George wondered how the hell that worked. He turned his head forward again, eyes catching on a fallen tree far away. “You know,” George started, nervously biting at his cheek. “I should thank you for dragging me out of that ravine.”

Dream turned his head to him, smirking. “Oh yeah?” He asked in amusement at the sudden topic of him saving George’s life being brought up. George nodded. “Yeah, but I won’t.” He said, continuing forward when Dream paused and gasped. Dream stood still and laughed, throwing his head back in euphoria. “You’re so mean, George!” He yelled at the brunette before moving to catch up with him. 

George hated it when the man said his name.

**Author's Note:**

> told yall that he's a whore


End file.
